


Ring Ring

by amuk



Series: Guardians [7]
Category: Vampire Knight
Genre: Break Up, Community: 24hour_themes, Denial, F/M, Introspection, Loss, Romance, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 20:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their paths might intersect, might collide and bounce off, but they will never be congruent. She has her life to live and he has his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ring Ring

**Author's Note:**

> Theme: 17:00/5PM--Insight to the self. Communicating with spiritual guides.

It’s five, according to his watch, when he finally takes a break. There are no hunts on his list, any parties to attend, or guests to guard. There is merely a moment of silence, a moment’s rest between his duties.

 

He crashes on the couch when he returns to his apartment. A small, badly patched up crack is a few centimeters above his head and he makes note to fix it up later. Cross probably did that shoddy work—it had been his fault the last hole occurred.

 

Distantly, Zero feels a hunger growing once more. It’s almost morbid the fascination he has for it—the hate and the curiosity that watch side by side the changes that occur.

 

And it is a quite the change.

 

His neighbor is quite warm and the scent of blood is faint through the thick walls.

 

(Yuuki's blood was more bitter, he recalls, with an aftertaste that wouldn’t leave for days. That still doesn’t leave, lingering in his mouth a year after that final drink.)

 

His pills taunt him from his table, those bottles of medicine that help the beast sleep once more, an ear cocked for the slightest disturbance.

 

The phone rings, vibrating through his pocket.

 

He doesn’t want to answer it. Just wants to lie there and sleep and disappear. Maybe then he can forget about this long chase, about promises and longing and a desire that will never be quenched.

 

She won’t come back. He knows that. He doesn’t and does care about it.

 

It’s almost like he has been weaned off her, painfully and suddenly, and yet…

 

He still knows her all too well. She’s probably doing something stupid and with this single-minded idea that she has to be the one to do this. Wanting to help but not knowing when that is just her butting in.

 

It’s still vibrating in his pocket, insistent on getting his attention.

 

It’s not like he asked to be saved. It’s not like he wants to be. Sometimes people don’t know that doing so harms far more than not.

 

There is a scar, gouged on his left chest, invisible to the naked eye. Sometimes his fingers feel like they are slipping through skin and memories, touching something intangible and broken.

 

And sometimes he thinks that his job would be easier if he could just patch this hole up again.

 

He doesn’t wait for the next ring before sitting up.

 

Whatever.

 

She’s happy. She has her life. He has his. Their paths might intersect, might collide and bounce off, but they will never be congruent.

 

That’s fine.

 

She chose her way.

 

(there are no more nightmares, no more dreams of red and faint looks of longing. Just smiles and bright eyes and finally a sense of belonging.)

 

She has what she wants and he is not one to stand in the way of that. No matter what his feelings might be on the matter.

 

The phone rings and he picks it up. Reality is calling.


End file.
